Madness
by ADI2DE
Summary: AU - When a series of murders cause 15 Division to reopen an old case, Sam Swarek is forced to go see the only surviving witness: Andy McNally, a woman who's locked away in an asylum. What he discovers, however, is a lot more than he bargained for, leaving him struggling to not only solve the case, but also protect the woman who's in the middle of it all.
1. Asylum

Sam Swarek ran a hand through his short black hair, taking a steadying breath as he waited for someone to return to the front desk. It was already proving to be a bad day. Between the extreme heat and the discovery of a woman's body earlier that morning, he really wasn't in the best mood, and having his own boss and friend send him to the asylum to try to question a patient really wasn't doing anything to improve his day.

He barely withheld a sigh upon seeing a woman finally came through the door. "I'm Dr. Vanarski," she said, holding her hand out to Detective Swarek.

Sam shook her hand, but didn't have the patience for any other formalities. "So… Andrea McNally, can I see her?"

The psychologist hesitated. "You can have a few minutes but I doubt you'll get anything from her."

Sam nodded, following the woman through the doorway, down several corridors and out a heavyset door leading to the courtyard. They stopped beneath a large oak tree where a woman sat with her legs crossed, her hands running aimlessly through her chestnut brown hair.

"Andrea?" Dr. Vanarski said cautiously.

The woman's hands continued to move in a steady rhythm, showing no sign of hearing the psychologist.

"Andy?" Dr. Vanarski tried, this time using a firmer voice.

The woman's eyes slowly raked upwards, her gaze piercing the other woman before she lowered it. Closing her eyes she hummed softly to herself.

"Andy, how are you feeling today?"

Again, no response.

"Andy?" the psychologist tried again, glancing over at Detective Swarek who looked puzzled.

"How are you?" Andy asked, finally looking up at the woman.

"I'm well thank you," Dr. Vanarski said. "How are you Andy?"

"How are you?" Andy asked again.

Dr. Vanarski sighed. "I have someone here who would like to speak to you. His name is Sam Swarek."

Andy tilted her head slightly before allowing her gaze to travel up the man's legs to his face, briefly pausing on the badge that hung at his belt. Sam caught the slight pause but said nothing. 

"He just wants to ask you a few questions," Dr. Vanarski said.

Andy pulled her legs up to her chest and covered her ears with her hands, closing her eyes and humming again as she did so. She slowly rocked back and forth in a calming manner.

"Can I try?" Sam asked, receiving a nod from the psychologist.

"I'll give you a few minutes. If you need assistance, call out and someone will be here."

Sam nodded, then sat down on the grass across from her. 

"You remember me, don't you?" he asked quietly.

All at once the rocking and humming stopped, her hands fell from her ears, and she opened her eyes. A smirk slowly spread across her face before she started laughing.

Sam stared at her as she laughed uncontrollably. He'd only seen her in passing once years ago when she had come in to visit her father at the station. They hadn't spoken, yet he remembered her face. He'd thought she was pretty then, and even with her current circumstances, she was still gorgeous. There was something in her eyes when she looked up at him though that made him certain she at least faintly recognized him, even if she couldn't place him.

"I need your help," he said slowly.

Her laughing gradually subsided, but the humming began again, though this time she continued to stare at him.

"Will you help me?" 

"He needs help," Andy said. "Why does he want help?"

Sam schooled his features, but wasn't sure how to proceed. 

"Nothing can help," she said, breaking out into another fit of laughter. A patient screaming on the other end of the courtyard had her hands flying to her ears again. "Make it stop," she said, rocking back and forth.

Sam hesitated, then cautiously reached forward and pulled her hands away from her ears. She initially tried to scramble away from him, but abruptly stopped and stared at his face before shifting her gaze to his hands. His own eyes shot down to his hands where an unfamiliar warmth was spreading through him. Looking back up at her face, he was certain she felt it too. For a few seconds she seemed to forget about the screaming patient and about everything else around her as she stared in confusion. And then he could almost see her slamming her barriers up again as she yanked her hands away. A frown creased his forehead as he searched her face for answers – he really wasn't sure what to expect from her, but in those few seconds what he'd seen didn't make sense. 

"Andy, look at me," Sam said, missing the warmth of her hands. "I need to ask you some questions about what you saw three years ago."

Her eyes darted all around, never staying on one thing for more than a second or two.

"We have reason to believe that the guy who attacked you and murdered your father killed another woman," Sam said quietly, watching her carefully. He could see her tense slightly, her eyes stopping for a brief moment before they continued to move around. When they stopped again, he started turning to see what she was looking at, but her voice stopped him.

"Don't move," she hissed.

He turned back to find her watching him, the intensity of the look unnerving. "Why?"

She seemed to lose focus again, running her hands through her hair as the same tune returned.

"McNally, I need you to talk to me."

"Leave," she said. "It isn't safe."

Catching a glimpse of something on her wrist, he reached out to examine it, but she screamed, causing him to jump backwards while holding up his hands to show he meant no harm. 

An employee immediately ran over, her gaze shifting from Sam to Andy. "I'm going to have to ask you to leave sir."

Sam hesitated, watching as Andy tossed the pills in her mouth that the nurse handed her. His gaze then moved to the nurse where it remained for a long moment as he took in her rather scrutinizing gaze towards Andy, and the way the woman was now roughly grabbing her.

"Make him go," Andy said, panic lacing her voice. "He needs to leave. He doesn't belong here. Make him go." When the nurse didn't respond, Andy repeated, "Make him leave. You need to make him leave."

Andy was roughly pulled to her feet and led back towards the building.

Sam sat at his desk, tapping his pen against the papers in the file he had open, completely unaware that his friend was staring at him.

"Making any progress Sammy?" Detective Jerry Barber asked.

Sam grimaced. "She recognized me," he said absentmindedly. "She didn't admit it, but I could tell that to some extent she remembered me."

"But you couldn't get anything out of her?"

He shook his head. "Something seemed off though, and she had bruises on her wrist."

"Maybe they had to restrain her," Jerry said, shrugging.

Sam leaned back in his chair. "Did you ever meet her?"

Jerry sighed. "Once when she was waiting for her dad. Sweet girl, smart… looked like she'd go far in life until the accident."

Sam nodded slowly. "And we don't know if she actually witnessed her father being murdered, or if she was just in the house at the time?"

"What are you getting at?" Jerry asked, frowning.

"Nothing," Sam said. He stood rather abruptly and said, "I'm going to try to talk to her again."

"Good luck with that," Jerry called after him as Sam left the detectives' office.


	2. Screwed Up

**Welcome back! Thank you for your reviews and follows! Feel free to check out my other stories as well, and let me know what you think. I love hearing what you guys have to say!**

**P.S - Sorry about the last chapter – I had the scenes divided, but it doesn't show up in the published version for some reason. I could update replace/update it, but I'm still so new to this that I'm not sure if that would delete the reviews? **

**Recap: The discovery of a woman's body connects back to a series of murders from years before. Without any solid leads, Sam Swarek is forced to visit an asylum where he attempts to question one of the patients, Andy, who is the only surviving witness. Although his first attempt is a failure, he senses something is off and decides to return again.**

"Hey Sammy."

Sam clenched his teeth, grimacing slightly. "Yeah Callaghan?" he said, turning to face the blond-haired, blue-eyed detective.

"Barber said you were looking for information on possible related cases," Detective Luke Callaghan replied, handing over a stack of files.

"Yup," Sam said, withholding a sigh. He'd wanted the info but he didn't want to owe this man anything. "Thanks," he muttered, taking the documents and heading back to his desk.

Jerry looked up, frowning. "I thought you were heading back?"

"Was," Sam said, ignoring his friend as he opened the first file. Although he'd been a cop at the time Detective Tommy McNally had been killed, he hadn't been on duty and he didn't know the specifics of the case.

He flipped through the papers, grimacing as he examined the photos taken of the crime scene. Tommy's body had been mutilated. Blood was everywhere. He turned the pictures over and started looking at the other papers, records of when Andy had first been admitted into the mental institution. "Hey Barber, I thought Tommy only had his daughter?"

Jerry looked up. "Yeah."

"Well then, who took her to be admitted? Who's Dennis Lance?"

"No idea buddy," Jerry said. "We looked him up, but he doesn't exist and the systems were down that day from a storm so there isn't security footage either."

Sam frowned, returning to the file. "And the payments?"

"Automatic, through McNally's account."

"Hasn't run out yet?"

"Nope," Jerry said.

Sam flipped another page, scanning the reports that outlined when an officer had tried to question Andy – there were numerous entries, but each one stated that the cop had found her insane and incapable of providing any type of statement. "You're sure she was fine before the incident?"

"Positive. Medical records show she was psychologically and physically fine."

He ran a hand through his hair.

"Look, you weren't there when we found her. She wasn't even responsive – she was alive and only had minor physical injuries, but mentally, she just wasn't there. The hospital kept her overnight and we had a guy guarding the door, but she managed to slip away… Hadn't said a word the entire time. Hadn't acknowledged us. She was already lost to us at that point. It just got worse over time."

Sam nodded, looking through the last few papers before opening the next file. His eyes were met with more gruesome photos of mutilated bodies, all of them belonging to women. He spent several hours poring over the files. Finally snapping the last one shut, he looked up at Jerry. "We screwed up."

Jerry hesitantly nodded. "We didn't know," he admitted. "What was done to Tommy's body was similar to what was done to the other women, but we ended up counting it as a separate case because a male victim just didn't fit with the guy's M.O. It's always been women."

"It's always been brown-haired, brown-eyed women with a slim build," Sam added.

"Yeah," Jerry said, looking away. "And because Tommy's death didn't seem to fit and the questioning officer couldn't get Andy to talk, we were forced to set the case aside."

Sam nodded. "But he was never after Tommy…"

"Nope," Jerry agreed. "I think he was after Tommy's brown-haired, brown-eyed daughter. Tommy just happened to be in the way, no doubt protecting her."

Sam swore, letting out a breath. "Which means if we can't get her to talk, he's going to kill again and we won't even stand a chance at stopping him."

* * *

"I'm afraid now isn't the best time," the nurse said, looking up at Sam. "She just took her meds so she's a little out of it."

He nodded, but continued to push. He'd already been waiting for over twenty minutes and it had taken him about fifteen just to get to the asylum – there was no point in turning back now, not when there was even a remote chance he could get something out of Andy. "It's important."

The nurse hesitated.

"Look, I can either question her here, or have her taken back to the division," Sam said. He really wasn't even sure if he could do that or not without having to do a ton of paperwork first, but with every other lead turning up as a dead end, Andy was currently the only one who could help them solve the case.

After a long moment the woman sighed and gestured for Sam to follow – this time he was led to a large room where dozens of patients sat engaged in various activities. Spotting Andy sitting on a bench with her head leaning up against the window, he nodded to the nurse, then cautiously approached her. "Andy," he said, stopping a few feet away. When she made no sign of hearing him, he slowly sat down on the opposite end of the bench and turned towards her. As he did so, he could have sworn he heard a small sigh escape her.

A quick look at her told him the nurse was telling the truth – she really did seem out of it. Her eyes were unfocused and she looked rather weak. Turning to a nearby nurse, he said, "What medication is she on?"

The nurse approached them but hesitated, putting a hand on Andy's shoulder as she replied, "I'd have to look."

The slight falter in her voice told Sam she was lying – that she was well aware of what meds her patient was on – and the way Andy cringed at the woman's touch told him something was definitely off. When the nurse was gone, Sam turned back to Andy, his eyes flicking to her wrist.

After a hesitant moment he looked around, trying to make it seem casual, before turning back to her again, shifting slightly as he reached out to gently put his fingers on her wrist. The warmth returned. "Did they hurt you?" he asked, keeping his voice low.

She continued to stare out the window, but he could feel her pulse quicken.

"Is that how you got the bruise on your wrist?" he asked.

Again, Andy's pulse quickened, yet she still hadn't pulled her arm away. He momentarily wondered if the meds had weakened her to the point that she couldn't rummage up the strength to pull away. Regardless, the fact that her heartbeat was quickening in response to his questions showed that she was at least somewhat mentally there.

"I know you can understand what I'm saying," he said quietly.

Her eyes shifted to him for the first time, but quickly reverted back to the window.

Sam could feel her tense, though nothing had visibly changed.

"If you're in danger, I can protect you."

She blinked hard and he could have sworn that for a brief moment she looked conflicted. He shifted slightly in the attempt to see her face a little better, but she immediately started hitting her head up against the window, once, then twice.

He glanced at the glass, then back at her. There was a brief pause before she did it again. "Stop," he said gently.

"What do you see?" she breathed.

Sam frowned, then glanced out the window, only to have her hitting her head up against the glass once more.

"What do you see?" she repeated a little louder this time, before lowering her voice again. "Not the trees, or the birds, or the bees… I see you, I see me." The last bit came out in a singsong voice.

His frown deepened – she still looked out of it, but something was stirring inside of her; something hadn't been completely knocked out by the drugs. It gave him a little bit of hope. Maybe if he kept trying he could actually get something out of her. He just had to figure out how to get her attention. With a sigh, Sam said, "I need to talk to…" He fell silent as she raised her hand to the glass and held it level with her face, her eyes flicking across the panels.

"Leave," she breathed.

"Why?" Sam asked, then shaking his head, added, "Look, I need your—"

"One, two, three, not the birds, or the bees, or the trees," Andy said before pulling her palm from the glass, curling her fingers up to form a fist and hitting the window.

Sam hesitantly reached out and pulled her fist away. "Stop."

She blinked hard again, fighting the exhaustion that was threatening to pull her under. Uncurling her fingers she snatched up his hand, startling Sam slightly, though he made no move to pull it away as she raised it and pressed it to the glass. "I see you," she breathed before letting his hand drop and turning back to the window. "I see me."

He looked from the glass to Andy, noting how her eyes remained on the window, though she didn't seem to be looking at anything in particular. That's when it hit him: she wasn't looking through the glass, she was looking at it. The reflection from the window showed that quite a few nurses were watching them, despite other patients screaming. He took a deep breath, forcing himself to adopt a neutral expression. "They're watching you," he breathed. Looking back at her he saw the corner of her mouth twitch.

Sam's eyes flicked back to the glass, studying the nurses for a moment before allowing his gaze to settle back on Andy. Her eyes were starting to close. Reaching out, he put his hand on her wrist again, gently massaging the fading bruises until she forced her eyes open. He waited another moment before quietly saying, "What do you see? Not the birds, or the bees, or the trees. I help you, you help me."

He barely managed to suppress a smile when she turned to face him. It was clear she was struggling to focus, yet he'd still gotten her attention. All at once though, things went downhill. She started visibly showing signs of distress, fear, and her breathing started to become laboured. Sam's eyebrows shot up and his mouth fell open slightly as a curse escaped him. His eyes flicked back to the window – it was clear that they were starting to draw attention. "Shhhh," Sam said quietly, studying her as he moved the pad of his thumb in a soothing manner over her wrist. "Just breathe."

When her breathing gradually evened out, he hesitantly said, "The meds they give you, they don't help you, do they? They screw you up. You're not…" He fell silent as the nurse he'd asked about the meds returned.

"Here's a list," the nurse said, handing over a piece of paper with at least half a dozen types of medication on it.

Sam took it and pocketed it, nodding in thanks to the nurse before turning back to Andy. Her eyes were closed. He squeezed her hand gently, but she didn't respond. She was out cold. Sighing, he got up and left, determined to return again.

**Thanks for reading!**


	3. Progress

**Welcome back! You guys are awesome, so thank you so much for your reviews and follows! I hope you'll continue to let me know what you think. **

**Recap: Sam visits Andy in an asylum in an attempt to question her about her father's murder several years ago. He visits her twice, each time sensing that something is off. During the second visit, Andy helps draw his attention to the fact that she's being watched. In this same visit, he also suspects that something is off with her. **

Sam sat behind his desk, massaging his temples. Getting the appropriate documentation to temporarily take Andy off the premises was proving to be a nightmare. He knew it would require quite a bit of paperwork and signatures, but he was being met with more resistance than anticipated.

Slamming the receiver of his office phone down, he turned back to his computer, ignoring Jerry's wide eyes. It was Jerry's fault he was stuck on this case in the first place – his friend had managed to convince the staff sergeant that their best bet was to put a fresh set of eyes on the case, and since Jerry had been a lead detective when Tommy died, the case now largely fell to Sam. Pulling the crumpled piece of paper out of his pocket, he started looking up the various types of medication that Andy was on. Most of them seemed to sedate her, but why would she need so many? Tapping his pen against his desk, he leaned back in his chair.

"Are you sure it's wise to take her off the premises?" Jerry asked.

"I can't talk to her there. They watch her… more than the other patients," Sam said. "And she's aware of it."

"Did she tell you that?" Jerry asked, giving Sam a skeptical look.

"Not exactly… at least not outright," Sam said slowly.

"Buddy, are you sure it isn't just wishful thinking? I mean, we've never gotten anything out of her before. She's never acknowledged us, or shown any sign of being mentally with it. _You_ even said you couldn't get anything out of her the first time."

Sam nodded. "I know, but I'm telling you, something is off with her and that whole place. I think if I can get her away from there, I might actually make progress," Sam said as he typed Andy's name into the system. He spent the next ten minutes scanning the document, letting out a laugh as his eyes stopped partway down. _There's no way_, he thought to himself, reading the same line over and over again.

"What?" Jerry asked.

Sam closed the document and shook his head. "I'll let you know if it pans out." If he was right, then things were about to get a whole lot more complicated. He might get his answers, but he'd be setting himself up for a lot more than he'd originally bargained for.

* * *

It took two days for him to acquire the appropriate documentation to take Andy off the property, as well as to coordinate with the necessary individuals to help him out. In order for it to be officially approved, he needed a nurse to accompany him and a psychologist to examine her. The only problem was that neither one was available until the following day. Nevertheless, he took the documents and went to see Andy.

This time, he was led to her room. He let his eyes wander, promptly shutting the door in the nurse's face when he realized she was lingering in the doorway. When he turned back to Andy, he caught her watching him. She immediately looked away and started fiddling with the bed sheets.

"You okay?" he asked, his eyes scanning the room for a camera.

She closed her eyes and started humming, her fingers releasing the bed sheets as they moved upward and raked through her hair.

Sam's search was temporarily abandoned as he turned to look at her. He allowed himself a few more moments to study her, trying to figure out if his new theory was correct. He wasn't an expert, but aside from her initial reaction to his presence, she was flawless. Still, he had to know for sure. Taking a deep breath, he said, "I'd imagine a psychology degree would go a long way in here."

Her eyes snapped open and flicked up to his face, though the humming continued as if his words hadn't fazed her.

He smirked. At least he had her attention. "Is it really worth it?"

She continued to stare at him as she hummed.

He waited another moment before leaning up against the wall near her bed. "My sister experienced a traumatic event when she was thirteen." He studied her movements closely – her hands were still running through her hair and her humming hadn't faltered. Though she was no longer looking at him, he sensed she was still listening. Wetting his lips, he forced himself to continue. "She was attacked by a group of guys when she was thirteen… they raped her." He swallowed hard. "She was never the same after that, even tried to run away, thinking that she could just put it aside without talking about it, pretend it never happened. It didn't work."

He could see her eyebrows start to furrow, but seconds later she was jumping off the bed and retreating to the far corner where she sat down, pulling her knees up to her chest. By the time she got there, she bore a neutral expression.

Sam cautiously approached and knelt down in front of her. "Did you run?" he asked quietly. When she didn't respond, he sighed. "Not many people know about my sister… I'm trusting you with that. But I need you to trust me too. What do I need to do for you to trust me?"

Her eyes slowly made their way up to his face.

"What happened to the camera?" he asked rather abruptly, quirking an eyebrow as his eyes landed on the spot where the camera had likely been. He had to make sure there wasn't one hidden somewhere before he said anything else.

The humming stopped and there was a long spell of silence as she stared at him. "It broke."

Sam's eyes widened. This was the first time she'd given him a straight response, even if it wasn't very explanatory. "Just broke on its own I suppose?" he said, a smile slowly forming.

Andy's lips twitched.

"Why didn't they replace it?"

"They kept breaking."

Before he could speak again, the door opened and a nurse strode in, shoving a cup with pills and water into Andy's hands. Sam stood up and stepped back a few feet, watching as the walls Andy had momentarily let down were slammed back up. The humming returned, this time accompanied by rocking.

"How often does she take her meds?" Sam asked, trying to distract the nurse. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched Andy lift the cup of pills to her mouth, letting them fall into her sleeve before drinking the liquid and shoving the glass into the nurse's hand.

"Some of them are twice a day," the nurse replied, taking the cup back and prying Andy's jaws open. Not seeing the pills, she released Andy, but continued to stare at her.

"You died last night," Andy said to the nurse before laughing hysterically.

The nurse paled and immediately turned and left the room. The second the door was closed Andy stopped laughing and looked up at Sam to find him watching her closely. She searched his face before getting to her feet and shrugging. "Would you want them staring at you all day?"

Sam shook his head, struggling to school his features. He couldn't blame the nurse for running – the way Andy had said it and the look on her face even creeped him out, but as he looked at her now, she looked more relaxed. He watched her walk back to the bed before lowering himself in the chair just to the left of her.

"You didn't tell her," Andy said, dumping the pills onto the bed. "Why?"

"Because you consciously made the choice not to take them," Sam replied. "And if I'm right, which I'm certain I am, then you really don't need to be here."

She stared at the far wall, her heart pounding heavily in her chest.

"Will you tell me what happened the night your father was murdered?"

She shook her head, humming a few bars of a song she couldn't name before realizing what she was doing. She fell silent and rubbed her face in an attempt to focus. Years of developing certain habits and the remnants of the last drugs still clouded her thoughts and drove her actions.

Sam frowned. Last time it had sounded like she would help him if he helped her. He pulled the document out of his pocket and passed it to her. "What if it's away from here?"

Her eyes darted from his face to the paper and back again, uncertainty in her eyes.

"You said you wanted help, I'll help you, but you need to help me too," Sam said.

She stared at her hands for a minute before taking the paper and tossing it on the bed.

At that, he sighed and got to his feet. "I'll be back tomorrow to see if you've changed your mind." He moved to grab the document, but her hand immediately snatched it up again.

She stared at it for a long moment before her eyes finally made their way back up to Sam's warm brown ones. "If I leave here, I can't come back."

This time he sat on the edge of the bed. He could tell she was struggling to focus, but he wasn't sure if it was because her previous round of meds hadn't fully worn off or if she really wasn't completely mentally there. He hesitantly reached out and took one of her hands in his, squeezing it gently to get her attention again. "I was right, wasn't I? What I said about your degree," he said slowly, searching her face for answers.

She licked her lips slightly, then bit down on her lower one. Her eyes were cast downward. "I can't come back," she repeated.

"Look at me," Sam said gently. When she still hadn't looked up, he cautiously reached forward and tilted her head up. His heartbeat quickened at the contact. "I don't know if I can keep you out," Sam admitted. "I don't even fully understand why you're in here, so if you want my help, you're going to have to be completely honest with me." Realizing he hadn't lowered his hand, he dropped it abruptly.

She blinked hard and took a deep breath. "He won't come here… he can't."

"Who?" Sam pressed.

Andy looked him straight in the eye. "The guy who killed my dad."

Sam studied her for a long moment, stunned by her declaration. There were so many questions he wanted to ask. "So this is all an act?"

She looked a little sheepish as a trace of a blush entered her cheeks.

Sam rubbed his face. "This doesn't make sense."

She was fiddling with the sheets again. "I can't stay here," she said quietly, forcing herself to still her hands. "It isn't safe anymore. If I leave, I can't… I won't come back."

Sam nodded slowly. "I'll see what I can do, but it's largely going to fall back on how you respond tomorrow." He got to his feet, knowing she wouldn't likely say anything else – she looked exhausted.

Once he was standing though, she snatched his wrist to temporarily stop him from leaving. "You can't tell them. Even when you come back, you can't tell them until you're with me."

"What?"

"Let them think you're coming back the same as every other time. Don't tell them you're taking me somewhere until after you see me or they'll drug me again like last time," Andy said.

He looked down at her for a moment. That would explain why they'd taken such a long time to bring him to her. "Give me the pills," he said, holding out his hand.

She obediently handed them over.

Sam glanced at them before pocketing them – there were definitely more in his hand than were on the list the nurse had given him. "You don't need any of them?" he asked cautiously.

Her eyes narrowed. "No more than you I'd imagine."

Sam threw his hands up to show he didn't intend to offend her.

She handed the paper back, then said, "Do you mind acting irritated when you leave?"

He shot her a questioning look.

"I haven't freaked out yet today, and with you being here, I kind of need to for everything to seem normal so…"

Sam couldn't help but smile. He wasn't sure he could trust her when she said her mental health was fine, but she certainly seemed rational. "Sure."

She smiled back at him. "Thanks. And remember not to tell them—"

"—Until I see you," Sam said. "Yeah, I got it."

Though she nodded, Sam could tell she was nervous.

He was barely out of the room when she started screaming. Even knowing it was all for show, he could feel his blood curdle and a piece of his heart break. It was a strange feeling, but it made him grimace, which worked well enough to get him out of the building without anyone trying to stop to talk to him.

**Thanks for reading! I hope you'll leave a review and join me for the next chapter. **


	4. Assessment

**Welcome back! Thank you guys so much for all of your reviews, follows, and favourites. I'm completely blown away by all of your support and kind words – you guys are AWESOME! I hope you continue to enjoy this story, and let me know what you think.**

**Recap: Sam visits Andy in an asylum in an attempt to question her about her father's murder several years ago. During one of Sam's visits, Andy helps draw his attention to the fact that she's being watched, confirming his initial belief that something is really off with both Andy and the asylum. While waiting for the appropriate documentation to take Andy off the premises, he discovers that she has a psychology degree. After confronting her about it, she admits that her mental illness is an act. Still, he can't be sure she's completely mentally there. Nevertheless, he intends to follow through with taking her off the premises.**

When Sam entered Andy's room the next day she was lying on her bed staring up at the ceiling. She still looked exhausted, as though she hadn't slept all night. "Hey," he said softly, not wanting to startle her.

Andy slowly turned her head in his direction, her eyes flicking up to his face before shifting to the open door.

"You okay?" he asked, forehead creasing with worry. Something seemed off, more so than usual.

She remained silent, eyes still on the open door, debating whether or not to speak. She was still questioning her decision to open up to him. Her thoughts were cut short, however, as movement in the hallway caught her attention. Bolting upright, she drew her knees up to her body in a protective manner just seconds before a woman entered the room.

"It's okay, she's a… friend," Sam said. "She's not going to hurt you, she just needs to ask you some questions before we go."

Andy stared in silence, her heart pounding heavily in her chest.

"Hi Andy," the woman said slowly as she moved further into the room. "My name is Sheila and I'm a psychologist."

Andy's eyes flicked from the woman to Sam and back again before finally settling on the open door once more.

Taking the hint, Sam grabbed a chair from the hallway and pulled it into the room. He glanced back at Andy to make sure she wasn't panicking, then shut the door and propped the chair up against it so that nobody could interrupt them.

"Sam's told me a little bit about you, but I need you to answer some questions in order for me to determine if it's safe for you to leave," Sheila said as she sat in the corner chair and pulled some cards out of her purse.

While the psychologist spoke, Sam watched Andy study Sheila, noting how her eyes ripped the woman apart. The second Sheila stopped speaking, Andy's eyes shot in his direction. He grimaced, guilt washing over him. He hadn't exactly warned her that she'd have to talk to the psychologist first. Her eyes flicked down to her hands and he could see the walls slamming back up. Things were going downhill fast. After a hesitant moment, he approached her and sat on the edge of the bed, partially blocking Andy's view of the woman. "If you don't talk to her, she won't let me take you," Sam said.

Andy cast a wary glance over Sam's shoulder.

"Please," Sam said. "Can you do that for me?" When she didn't respond, he cautiously reached out and took one of her hands in his and squeezed it gently. Her eyes slowly traveled up to his face, lingering there for a long moment.

She swallowed hard and nodded.

After giving her an encouraging smile, Sam got up and retreated back towards the door to ensure the psychologist had Andy's full attention, though his eyes never strayed far from her. Realizing she was watching him too, he gestured for her to pay attention to the woman. Still Andy's eyes lingered on Sam a moment longer. She could feel the psychologist's eyes on her, and even with the nurses constantly watching her, this woman's gaze unnerved her. "Can you stop staring at me and just show me the stupid cards?" Andy said, her head snapping in Sheila's direction.

Sam cleared his throat. Andy's eyes flicked back to him and she saw the warning there.

"Sorry," she said, wetting her lips as she returned her gaze to the woman. "Manners are one of the first things to go when you're acting like a lunatic."

"So it's all been an act?" Sheila asked.

"You tell me, you're the psychologist," Andy replied, catching Sam's grimace out of the corner of her eye.

"I've been told you have a psychology degree too," Sheila said.

"Well, I'm glad you've done your homework."

Sheila pursed her lips. "And a degree in criminology," she continued.

"Do you expect bonus points for that?" Andy asked, her tone dripping with sarcasm.

The woman looked over at Sam questioningly, but all he could do was shrug. Andy had never spoken to him like this and he really wasn't sure why she was acting like this now. Again, he had to question his judgment. Sure, she was speaking coherently, but she seemed aggressive and defensive now, so unlike what he'd seen before.

"You were admitted three years ago," Sheila said. "The documents say Dennis Lance signed you in, but he doesn't seem to exist, so who checked you in?"

Andy shrugged. "I checked myself in, and I'll get myself out too."

"Someone had to have been there with you to check you in," Sheila pressed. "Who?"

"You're a psychologist, not a detective," Andy said. "Why don't you try sticking to your own job?"

"Do you want out of here or not?" Sheila asked sharply.

Andy hesitated.

"How did you do it?"

There was a long spell of silence. "I'm done," Andy said, looking over at Sam. "Get out."

His eyes widened. "Can you give us a moment?" he asked Sheila, though his eyes remained on Andy. He moved the chair and let the psychologist out of the room before closing the door again. "What was that about?" he said, folding his arms across his chest.

She refused to look at him.

"McNally," Sam said. "What's going on?"

"I don't trust her, and if you trust her, then I can't trust you."

His eyes widened again. Taking a deep breath, he approached her. When she started pulling her legs tighter to her body, he stopped. She was definitely on edge. He lingered a few feet away from the end of the bed, running a hand over his face. "Look, I didn't have a choice about who to bring. She was free and she was assigned to this, so there really isn't much I can do about that."

"Do you trust her?"

"I don't know her," Sam admitted.

"You called her a friend."

He nodded. "So that you wouldn't panic."

"So you lied to me." It was a statement, not a question – he'd already admitted to lying to her, but she had a point to make.

"I…" he began, trying to think of a way out of this, but falling short. "I did."

She looked up at him. "What else have you lied about?"

"To you? Nothing," Sam replied.

Andy studied him for a long moment before shifting into a more comfortable position on the bed, crossing her legs instead. She gestured for him to sit. "So what do I do?"

"What were you trying to do?" He sat down on the end of the bed, struggling to keep a neutral expression as he wondered what he'd done to get her to suddenly relax and open up again. Was it because he'd admitted to lying? Or had something else occurred to her?

Andy shrugged. "See if she's like the others… Sometimes you have to be like that or they'll break you. But if you say nothing, it's only worse."

"Hold that thought until we get you out of here," Sam said. He wanted to know exactly what went on in this place, but right now, he knew time was limited and he needed to make sure the psychologist cleared her so he could actually get her off the premises. "And we _will_ get you out of here."

She nodded, but looked doubtful.

"Alright, so umm, in terms of what to do, you have her attention so just tone it down," Sam said. "Take a few deep breaths if you need to, but don't let her get to you. If she does, don't show it."

She nodded, wondering how many rules he was breaking by trying to help her get out – even if she was the only witness, just how far were they willing to go?

"Are you ready?"

"No," she said rather weakly.

"Did something happen last night?"

"I don't know," Andy admitted. "I… I don't really remember." She blinked hard. "Can we just get this over with?"

He nodded, deciding he could always question her more later on. After letting the psychologist back in and putting the chair back up against the door, he looked back at Andy, surprised when she held her hand out in his direction. For a moment he just stared, then forced himself to move back towards her, allowing her to take his hand and pull him down on the bed beside her. Seeing Sheila's eyes on them, Sam gave a subtle shrug – what did it matter if it helped them get through this?

"Sorry," Andy said for the second time. "I umm…" She struggled to find the words. "After all this time acting one way, it's hard to be normal again… to deal with people, to know how."

Sheila nodded. "So you're willing to continue?"

Andy looked over at Sam, who squeezed her hand. "Yeah," she said, exhaling deeply.

"Let's just start on the cards then" Sheila said. Upon receiving a nod from Sam, she held up the first card with a black and white image. "We're still going to have to talk though."

"I know," Andy replied, pausing before saying, "Bird" in response to the card. "But I'm not so sure I can answer everything here." She barely refrained from adding, _"Or that I'd ever want to tell you."_

Sheila held up the next card.

"Heart… panther… fire… dragon… who makes these?" Andy said as the woman flipped to the sixth card.

Sheila ignored her question and held up the next card.

Andy's face fell, her grip noticeably tightening on Sam's hand.

A brief spell of silence encompassed the room. Sam, who had momentarily looked at the door, turned to look at the image on the card, confused. He had absolutely no idea what it was supposed to be, but apparently it meant something to Andy – her lips were pressed together and she looked furious.

"What do you see?" Sheila asked.

"Next," Andy said, the warning clear in her tone. Her teeth were grinding together and her fingers were gripping Sam's hand so hard it was almost painful. Her other hand was balling the sheets up, her fist clenched so tight her knuckles were turning white.

Sam looked from Andy to Sheila and back again before hesitantly reaching out. With a hand on her cheek, he gently turned her face towards him. "Look at me," Sam said, when she wouldn't meet his eyes. Somehow managing to free his other hand, he cupped her face, holding his breath as her eyes slowly made their way up to his. The look in her eyes almost made him move back, but instead, he forced himself to maintain his position. "Whatever that image was, we're going to skip it, but you need to keep going."

Andy shook her head.

If this was how she was going to be later, he wondered if they'd ever get answers out of her. Sighing, he tried another approach. "You know that song you hum?

She nodded.

"It started as part of the act, but now you find it calming, don't you?"

Her eyes widened slightly and he could see her anger slip a notch.

He took a deep breath, then started humming the song he'd heard her repeat every time they met. Even after her eyes closed, he kept his hands on either side of her face, smiling when she visibly started to relax. When he finally fell silent, Andy opened her eyes and took a deep breath. "Better?" he asked.

She nodded.

"Can you try again?" he said, tucking some hair behind her ear.

When she hesitated, he lowered his hands, gently tugging the sheets out of her grasp before replacing the material with his own hands. Her eyes flicked downward for a brief moment before she nodded and reluctantly looked back at the woman.

"What do you see now?" Sheila asked slowly. When she didn't receive a response, she flipped cards. "Okay, try this one."

Andy took a deep breath. "Flower," she said quietly.

They continued for another few minutes, only two cards remaining unanswered. "Alright," Sheila said, scribbling down some notes before pulling out a few other items. "Now I want you to organize these. You have two minutes, and you can organize them however you want."

When Sam tried to let go of her hands, her grip tightened. "I'm not going anywhere," he reassured her. "Just giving you some more space for this."

After a long moment Andy released him and immediately spread the items out on the bed. She then remained motionless for about thirty seconds.

"Are you having trouble?" Sheila asked. Sam's eyes flicked from the pieces to Andy's face.

She glanced up at the woman, an eyebrow quirked. "No." She then used both hands to start moving the pieces around. At the minute mark Andy dropped her hands and looked back up at the psychologist. "Does that work for you?"

Sheila frowned before taking a picture and putting all of the pieces back in her purse. She then pulled out a small board with sliding tiles and handed it to Andy. "Solve it."

Andy looked over at Sam but she couldn't tell what he was thinking, so she turned her attention back to the small board, which she took and examined for a moment before starting to move the pieces.

"Why did you check yourself in?" Sheila asked.

She continued to move the pieces as she responded. "It seemed like the safest place to go."

"Why?"

Andy glanced up at the woman. "He knows I saw him," she said, sliding another piece. "And someone who does… what he did, probably doesn't like loose ends."

Sheila nodded. "So you were scared he'd come back for you, but that doesn't explain why you came here."

She slid two more pieces before responding. "Even if he found out…" she began, but fell silent, her fingers hovering above the tiles on the board as memories from the night before started to surface. She'd been outside. A nurse had accompanied her, but she couldn't recall which one. But she'd seen him.

"Andy?" Sheila said cautiously, exchanging glances with Sam.

She blinked hard. "Yeah," she said. "Umm, you've seen what they're like here, nobody comes or goes unless they allow it." Andy paused, wetting her lips. "And if you seem crazy enough, nobody's going to take you seriously if you let something slip. They'll just think it's a bad dream or complete nonsense. So really, if you're crazy, you're not a threat... It seemed safe."

Sam frowned. She was hiding something and yet, the more he listened, the more he wondered just how much she actually knew. He suspected she had no idea that her father's murderer had actually been after her.

"Why didn't you go to the cops for help?" Sheila pressed.

"My dad was a cop," Andy replied, her eyes narrowing, though she continued to slide the pieces around. "The only thing that did was wind up getting him killed."

"So you think the guy went after your father because he was a cop?"

Andy shrugged. "It's hard to say. I don't think my dad recognized him, but everything happened so fast."

When Sheila looked up at him, Sam shook his head. Taking the hint, the psychologist moved on. "How did you handle it afterward?"

"How would you handle it?" Andy retorted, looking up for a brief moment before turning her attention back to the board. She took a deep breath to calm herself again. "Sorry," she muttered.

"I'd be upset. I'd need someone to talk to…"

"There is nobody," Andy said without looking up. "He took the only person I had."

"You didn't talk to anyone here?"

"When you're trying to act crazy, you can't really have a real conversation," Andy replied. "You don't exactly have that luxury."

"So you bottled it up?"

"No." She shook her head. "I broke the camera in here, cried when nobody was around, and when it became too much I just screamed like everyone else in here," Andy said. "And then they started giving me drugs so it just kind of numbed me."

"And how are you doing now?"

Andy shrugged. "I'm tired… confused… scared."

"What are you scared of?"

"Them."

"Who?"

A knock on the door sent Andy into panic mode again.

"Focus on the task at hand. Sam won't let them in," Sheila said. "Are you scared of the people who work here?"

"There's something off," Andy replied, her eyes still on the door. "They watch me… give me something that makes me pass out for… hours maybe."

The knocking stopped. "And what about the other patients? Do you feel like they watch you too?"

Andy's mouth fell open, her eyes snapping back to the woman. "Are you serious?"

"Do you?"

"No. I mean, some of them might, but they can't help it. They don't realize they're staring. But no, I'd rather be around the patients than the employees."

Sheila made a couple more notes.

"I don't see things either in case you're wondering," Andy said.

Sheila let out a disgruntled noise. "Let's go back to the night of the incident. Did you see what happened? You said you saw the attacker."

Andy moved the last piece on the board and handed it back to the woman. She met her gaze, but it was a long moment before she spoke. "I saw everything."

Sheila hesitated, then got up and motioned for Sam to follow her out into the hall.

"So?" Sam asked.

"Have you noticed anything odd here?"

Sam glanced around, then nodded. "She wasn't making that up. They do watch her. They even drugged her once when I got here and made me wait around awhile before I could see her. And every time I come, it's harder and harder – they're more resistant… more reluctant to let me see her, but I don't know why."

Sheila sighed.

"Anything else?" Sam pressed. "I mean, how did she do? Is she okay?"

Sheila shook her head, causing Sam's mouth to fall open. That wasn't what he'd expected. "So uh, what's wrong with her then?"

Sheila smiled slightly, shaking her head again. "Nothing is wrong with her, not from what I can tell from these short assessments." She paused. "Based on what I saw, she's normal in the sense that she shouldn't be in here. And while her behaviour is questionable, given what I've heard about her prior to the incident and what I know about everything since then, I think she's just confused. Once the meds completely wear off and she grows out of the habits she's forced herself into for this place, I think she'll be far more even tempered."

"But?" Sam said, sensing there was more.

"I've never seen anyone complete everything so quickly," Sheila said. "And that's with responding to questions too… Whoever she is, she's smart, really smart, so whatever you do, be careful." She paused, and rather hesitantly added, "Quite honestly, at this point I'm not sure who you should be more concerned about."

Sam frowned. With a murderer on the loose that seemed like an odd thing to say. He was about to ask her to elaborate when a nurse walked by, giving him a sharp look.

"I have to head out for my next appointment," Sheila said, "But I'll have a report sent over to your division once it's fully written up. For now though, you can submit this to the front desk here and keep one for yourself." She handed him a signed document clearing Sam to take Andy off the premises.

Sam nodded in thanks, watching the psychologist go before turning around and entering Andy's room again. As soon as the door clicked shut behind him, he said, "You're cleared… Are you ready?"

She pressed her lips together, pulling her knees tight to her chest again.

He frowned. "You still want to come, don't you?"

"I don't know how to do it," she said, shaking her head. "I don't know how to be normal anymore."

"You just had an entire conversation with that woman," Sam said, confused.

Andy shook her head. "But I can't think." It came out as something of a growl. "Half the time I can't focus… more than half… I've just become so used to… all of this. The habits. The way of speaking… _This _has become my life." She gestured randomly. "I don't know how to separate it anymore. I don't know how to deal with it. To reset my way of thinking, being."

He hesitated. "Whenever I come back from an undercover operation it always takes me a few days, sometimes weeks for everything to start feeling normal again. It just takes time, but it will come back to you."

"And have any of them ever gone wrong? Given you nightmares?"

"One," Sam said after a long moment.

"And how long was it before those went away? How long before you stopped looking over your shoulder? Until you could go back to normal?"

He ran a hand through his hair. "Fifty-six days of nightmares and seventy-four days of paranoia. But we got the guy. He's in jail now and he can't hurt anyone else."

"But is that enough?" Andy asked quietly.

Sam looked over at her and considered her question carefully. "Sometimes yes, sometimes no. If you're asking if I wanted him to die, then yeah, part of me did, but he didn't deserve to be let off that easily. Where he is now, he's being punished for what he did to all of those families." He paused. "It doesn't change what happened, but at least the families can rest easier knowing they have some justice." When Andy remained silent, he continued. "Is that why you want out of here? To find the guy who murdered your father? Get revenge?"

She shook her head. "I don't have a death wish. If I did, I would never have come here; I would have gone after him."

Sam nodded. "We'll catch him and he _will_ pay for what he did." He hesitated. "It's never taken lightly when it's one of our own. But, we hit dead ends with every lead—"

"Except me," Andy said, finishing his train of thought.

Again, Sam nodded. "To catch him, we need your help."

"Which means we need to go," she said quietly.

"Think you're ready now?" Sam asked, holding his hand out to her.

She hesitated, then allowed him to pull her to her feet.

He gave her an encouraging smile as they left the room, watching her cast a glance over her shoulder once before facing forward.

* * *

The closer they got to the front, the more unsettled Andy started to feel. At one point she full out stopped and Sam looked at her questioningly. She merely shook her head, took a deep breath, and tried to push the feeling aside.

With each step, Sam could see Andy's barriers build up again, watching her recoil within herself. Before passing through the doors to get to the reception area, he gently grabbed her arm and led her through, giving the illusion that he was in control of her, but really trying to offer her some support. Once at the desk, however, he had to let go of her in order to complete the remaining paperwork.

Up until this point Andy had been largely silent, but the closer he got to completely the documents, the more nonsense Andy seemed to utter. He watched her for a moment, noting that her eyes kept flicking from the woman behind the desk to the doorway they'd just walked through. He assumed Andy was just nervous that someone would stop them, so he didn't think much of it. Nevertheless, he periodically glanced up as he worked his way through the last of the papers, wondering where the nurse was – she was supposed to be have arrived already.

The sudden shift in the receptionist's demeanour had him stiffening, a bad feeling creeping up on him. The woman looked anxious, her gaze frequently being cast towards the various entrances and exits. Withholding a frown, he looked back to Andy whose eyes were now fixed solely on the door they'd walked through. The sound of the door opening behind them, however, had her whirling around, taking in a sharp breath before she darted towards it.

"McNally!" he yelled, freezing when the person entering the building caught Andy around the middle and jammed a needle into her neck. Her body went limp within seconds. "What the—?" he began, staring at her. That really hadn't been necessary.

Moments later he felt a sharp pain in his own neck, before his knees gave out and everything went black.

**Thanks again for reading!**

**…It seemed like you guys wanted Sam to help get Andy out of the asylum, but I couldn't just let him walk her out the door, right? I hope you'll leave a review and join me for the next chapter to find out what goes down.**


	5. Last Resort

**Welcome back! As always, thanks for your awesome reviews and for the follows and favourites! I absolutely loved your reactions to what happened in the last chapter (and to the entire story so far)… This story is definitely going to be full of a lot of twists, so if I can pull it all off, I think this could end up being my favourite story to write. Then again, that could just be because it's really going to push and test me in a lot of ways that my other stories don't necessarily do. Anyway, I hope you guys continue to enjoy it, and continue to let me know what you think! Thanks!**

**Recap: After realizing that something is off with both Andy and the asylum she's in, Sam is determined to remove her from the premises in order to protect her and learn the truth about her father's murder, which happened several years ago. Sam manages to obtain the proper documentation and gets approval from a psychologist, but on his way out of the building, Andy is grabbed and both are injected with an anesthetic. **

Sam groaned, cracking an eyelid open just a little before clamping both eyes shut, struggling against the wave of nausea that threatened to overcome him. After a few deep breaths, he tried again, blinking hard several times. Things slowly came back into focus. But, even then, it was dark. Really dark. In fact, he could hardly see a thing.

Faint breathing sounded from somewhere nearby.

"McNally?" he whispered.

Silence.

"Andy?"

Silence.

With a steadying breath, he began to crawl in the direction of the breathing, his movements slow and laboured. When at last his hands hit something solid but warm, he paused. Was it her?

Creaking to the left had his head snapping in that direction, his entire body tensing as his eyes scanned the darkness for the source. Already his palms were getting sweaty and his heart was pounding heavily in his chest. The whole situation was messed up, but never had he suspected that it would land him here. Was this the end? He swallowed hard, waiting.

When no further noises could be heard, he chalked it up to old pipes and turned back to his original task, trying to shake his nerves as he cautiously moved his hands in an attempt to figure out what it was that he'd found… Skin, still radiating with warmth despite the cool concrete floor. Rough material, which felt exactly like what the patients wore. Hair, long and soft. "McNally?" he said, a little hesitantly.

The body stirred and groaned. It was definitely female.

He gently shook her. "McNally," he hissed.

It took a few more minutes of prodding before there was further movement.

She gasped, each breath short and sharp as her arms flailed out in an attempt to protect herself.

Sam grunted as he was struck hard in the chest. "McNally, stop. Just breathe okay?" He managed to catch an arm. "I need your help."

Her movements slowed, then stopped.

"Do you know where we are?" He could feel her move again, but this time her movements were less frantic and more calculated.

"Basement." Her voice sounded rough.

"Of the institution?" he asked, eyes widening. Surely since they hadn't been killed yet, their captors would be smart enough to move them off the property? He could hear her moving around again.

"Yeah," she replied, spotting a faint glimmer of light in the distance.

He frowned. "You've been down here before?"

"I… I think so."

"When? Why?" Sam pressed.

"I don't know," she said, her voice shaking. "I… I don't remember."

"Is there a way out? Do you remember that?"

Andy sighed. "If there was, do you think they'd put us down here?"

Sam swallowed hard. "Andy, what's going on? What do these people want with you?"

She shook her head, forgetting he couldn't see.

"Andy?"

"I don't know," she whispered.

He rubbed his face in a desperate attempt to clear his thoughts and come up with a plan. Before he could land on anything solid though, there was more creaking, followed by blinding light. They both threw their hands up over their eyes, squinting as they attempted to adjust, but strange hands were already on them and before either one of them could react, they were unconscious again.

* * *

Officer Oliver Shaw headed straight for the Detective's office, followed by his rookie, Nick Collins. "Hey brother," Oliver said to Jerry.

Jerry looked up.

"Heard from Sam recently?"

"Uh, yeah, well, no... I mean, he was going to the asylum," Jerry said, his eyes flicking to his watch. He frowned. It was later than he'd thought. "He should have been back hours ago."

Oliver nodded. "Dispatch tracked his car. Noticed it hadn't moved in awhile. Said it was sitting in a parking lot of a run down gas station, so we checked it out. No prints, nothing. It's all been wiped clean."

"And he hasn't checked in?" Jerry asked quickly.

"No," Oliver replied. "And we talked to the psychologist – she said she left before them. And the nurse said she arrived but was told Sam had already left. She said his car wasn't in the parking lot so she didn't think much of it."

Jerry frowned. "Did you find out who told her that?"

Oliver shook his head. "We're going to swing by and pick her up, take her back to the institution and see if she can identify anyone. Thought maybe you'd want to come along, check it out for yourself?"

"Yeah," Jerry said. He had a sinking feeling. "Yeah, I do."

* * *

_An hour later…_

In the company of a dozen officers, Jerry, Oliver, Nick, and the nurse, entered the institution.

"Sir, you can't bring them in here," the receptionist cried. "If the patients see them armed, they'll panic."

Jerry motioned for the men to stand back, but he wasn't going to risk having them leave. Although he'd been hesitant at first, he couldn't help but think that Sam had been right all along. Something was off with this place. "An officer came here earlier today. Did you see him?"

The woman nodded.

"Is he still here?" Jerry asked.

"No. He left with one of our patients hours ago," the woman replied.

Jerry turned to look at the nurse. "Do you recognize her?" When the nurse shook her head, he ran a hand over his face and turned back to the receptionist. "Who was at the front desk earlier today?"

"I've been here all day sir," the woman said.

"I'm going to need access to your security footage. All of it. For the front, and for the hallways. Outside. Everywhere."

The woman nodded.

"I'm also going to need a list of all of your employees, and we're going to have to search the place."

"We have strict policies sir," the woman replied. "I can show you the footage and get you the list, but without a warrant, you can't search the premises."

Jerry looked to Oliver. "Get it." He then followed the woman to a backroom where they went through video after video until they saw Sam walking Andy down the hallway and out of sight. "Where's the video from the front?"

"There isn't one. We're waiting for a repairman to come and fix or replace the camera."

"And outside?"

"We don't have one. We have no reason to spend money on it, so we don't. This place is secure as is."

Jerry groaned. The footage definitely showed Sam with Andy, but there was no way of knowing if his friend had even made it out of the building. He forwarded through the footage but there was no sign of them turning back. They had to have gone through the front doors. He retreated back to where Oliver and the others were waiting.

"Warrant should be available in a couple of hours," Oliver said, not looking too pleased.

"Are you serious? A cop is missing and they want us to wait a couple of hours?" Jerry practically yelled.

"I know buddy, but what are we supposed to do about it?" Oliver asked, watching as his friend struggled to maintain control. "Look, we'll go through the list, do another sweep of the area where his car is to see if we missed something, and then we'll come back here with the warrant."

Jerry reluctantly nodded. "We'll leave a unit here just in case."

Even after searching through the list of employees, the nurse had been unable to identify any of the individuals as the one she'd spoken to. The second search of the car and surrounding area had proved just as fruitless as the first. And, there were no signs of Sam and Andy at the institution. In fact, there was no sign of Sam or Andy anywhere. They were left drawing blanks.

* * *

When Sam woke up again, his head was spinning – everything seemed to swim in front of his eyes. He tried to rub them, but found his hands soon being jerked back. Blinking hard, he looked up, following the length of his arms right up to where his hands were restrained by cool metal. _What the hell?_

He clamped his eyes shut, squeezing them tight before reopening them, hoping he'd just been imagining things. Nothing changed. A curse escaped him. They'd been moved, but where to? Through blurry eyes, he looked around the room, making out the grey cement walls and floor, two small windows, and a couple of crates. As his eyes moved further along, he spotted Andy lying on the floor several metres away from him. She was out cold. "McNally?" he called out, his voice hoarse. "Andy?"

No response.

Letting out a frustrated sigh, he glanced down, noting that his gun had been taken from him – no doubt it had been missing the last time he woke up, but hadn't been with it enough to realize. He shifted slightly. His cell phone was gone too. _Great. _Turning his eyes upward, he stared at the cool metal around his wrists, easily recognizing them as his own handcuffs. If the situation hadn't been so serious, he would have bet that Jerry or Oliver would make fun of him for being caught in his own cuffs, but as it was, he wasn't sure if he'd ever see them again, or if they'd ever find his body. The thought made him yank hard in an attempt to break the cuffs away from the wall or slide out of them, but after several minutes of struggling to free himself, he finally leaned back up against the wall, his breathing deeper than before. He closed his eyes and focused on trying to compose himself. The worst thing he could do now was panic. He needed to focus. He needed a plan. When his breathing evened out, he opened his eyes once more and continued to look around the room, hoping to find out where they were and how to get away.

* * *

_Two hours later…_

Andy stirred.

"McNally?" he called out, keeping his voice as quiet as possible, but loud enough for her to hear.

It was a few minutes before she was pulled out of the haze, but within seconds of opening her eyes, she slammed them shut again, a groan escaping her as she felt a wave of nausea hit her.

He grimaced as he watched her – it was obvious by the expression on her face that she was in an immense amount of pain. He had no idea what caused it though. To his knowledge, she'd been stuck with whatever they'd given him, and he wasn't feeling any pain, just a little weakness and nausea. "You okay?" he asked softly.

She shifted slightly but was silent and remained that way for another hour.

When Sam saw her stir again, he called out her name. "I need you to wake up and look at me."

Andy groaned, but eventually managed to turn her head and open her eyes so she was looking in his direction.

"You okay?"

Silence.

He could tell she was struggling to focus on him. "I need you to come over here. Do you think you can do that?" He'd long since realized she wasn't bound – no doubt whoever brought them here felt like she wasn't a threat, which meant they still bought her act.

She took a deep breath and weakly pushed herself into a sitting position, her breathing already shaky.

"That's it," Sam said. "Just take your time."

It was another moment before she pushed herself to her feet, but within a few steps her knees gave out and she collapsed to the floor, clamping her eyes shut as the room spun.

Sam cursed. "Okay, umm, forget about walking. Try crawling." He felt bad for even suggesting it, since something was clearly wrong with her, but being the only person who could identify the serial killer, he couldn't risk their captor coming down and her not being able to protect herself. If she could just make it towards him he could try to help her.

It had to have been a good ten minutes before she made it over to him, her entire body shaking from the effort. He tried to give her a reassuring smile as she sat up against the wall beside him, pulling her knees to her chest. Her breathing was heavy and he could see her sweating, despite the shivers that ran through her. Now that they were this close, everything became clearer. She was going through withdrawals, he was almost sure of it. He bit back a curse. "When was the last time you took the drugs?"

"Two days ago… I think," she said, her voice barely audible.

He sighed, torn. She was a witness and a victim, and what he was about to do went against everything he'd been trained to do: to involve a civilian in a way that could put his or her life in greater danger. Right now though, there wasn't much choice. "Reach into my left jacket pocket."

Andy hesitated, then did as she was told, pulling out the bag containing her pills. Her eyes widened. "No," she said, shaking her head when she realized what he was going to ask her to do. "I can't."

Sam squeezed his eyes shut. She sounded scared. Of course she was though. Hell, he was scared, and there wasn't much that set him off. When he finally opened his eyes, he stared straight ahead, unable to look at her. "I need your help here. Unless you're able to find something to get me out of these cuffs, then I need you to do this… If there was another way, I wouldn't ask, but I'm stuck and I know you're feeling pretty weak right now, but I can't do this on my own. I need you to be my partner right now."

She looked over at him, but said nothing.

Swallowing hard, Sam continued. "I'm not asking you to take all of them – that would knock you out and that's the last thing we need." He sighed. "From what I remember, the blue one is the most addictive. It might not be the right one for you, but if…" Again, he paused. He needed to explain himself better before he continued with that thought. "Sooner or later, someone is going to come back down here and I don't know who it will be or what will happen, but I guarantee you, it won't be good... If you take the blue pill and it works, your withdrawal symptoms should start to go away and that will leave us with a little bit of time before it knocks you out." He nodded towards the wall to the left of them. "You're small enough to fit through that window. If you can get it open, you can get out of here." Again, he paused, this time listening. "It sounds like someone's still upstairs, so you'll have to find the nearest house and call the police. Ask for Jerry. He knows I went to see you, and even if they haven't already been alerted, if you tell him your name, they'll know something's wrong and they'll come here. Okay?"

Andy hesitantly reached out and turned his face to hers so she could study it. He met her eyes and held his breath, hoping that whatever she was looking for, she found. It was a long moment before she nodded. "Okay, but what if it doesn't work? What if I can't?"

"If you don't, we might not make it out of here," Sam said. "They clearly didn't want you leaving, and they attacked a cop. Once someone crosses that line, there's no going back, so it's unlikely they'll let either of us go."

Her hand fell, and with it, her eyes. She stared down at the bag, dread filling her as she stared at the pills. "If I do this, and we get out of here, I don't want to go back… ever. There, or any place like it. I want to be free. In control of my own life."

Sam nodded. "If we get out of here, I swear you'll never be locked up again. You'll be free. _But_, after you give your statement and tell us what you saw."

Andy nodded, opening the bag with shaky hands and dumping the blue pill into her palm. She quickly tossed it in her mouth and swallowed it with some difficulty.

Seeing a shiver run through her, Sam hesitantly said, "Come here." When she frowned, he added, "You're freezing."

She eyed him cautiously.

"Andy, I'm handcuffed. Even if you don't trust me not to do something, there really isn't anything I can do with these on," he said, rattling the handcuffs slightly. "You're freezing, and you need to warm up and focus on getting your strength back. I don't see anything down here that's going to help you, so unless you have a better idea, then get over here."

After studying him for another moment, she shuffled closer and cuddled into his side. "Don't move though, okay?"

He stared at the top of her head before his eyes flicked to the rest of her body, which pretty much had him pinned. Biting back a laugh, he said, "Don't think I could anyway."

"Smartas—"

His eyebrows shot up. "You wanna be warm or what?" he interrupted.

She grumbled something and for the first time in hours, he found himself with a genuine smile on his face.

Her shivering gradually stopped and he could feel some of the tension leave her body. In turn, he felt himself relax a little, knowing that this was a good sign. However, when she moved a little closer, he swallowed hard. Her breath was now cascading out onto his neck, causing him to stiffen as goosebumps popped up all over his skin. _Maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all_, he thought.

Instead of showing further improvement, after twenty minutes, it was clear that her symptoms were getting worse. He gently nudged her foot with his own until she opened her eyes and slowly raised her head. The look on her face had him second-guessing himself, but at the moment her getting out was the only option. "Red," was all he could manage.

She sighed, taking a moment to fully wake up before pushing herself away from him and grabbing the red pill out of the bag. Within seconds, she'd reluctantly popped it in her mouth and swallowed it. Without waiting for permission, she cuddled back up into Sam's side and fell asleep again.

He wasn't sure how much time had passed since she'd taken the pill, but he'd been watching her while she slept and this time things were looking up. Her breathing was returning to normal and her face had a little more colour in it. Pushing the guilt aside, he nudged her again. "How are you feeling?"

"Tired," she said, groaning. She didn't even bother to raise her head.

"Do you think you can do this?" he asked quietly.

"We don't have a choice," she said. "You said so yourself."

He nodded. He'd never put so much trust in someone before. If she didn't make it, or if she took off instead of calling for help, this could mean the end for him. "I did, but do _you_ think you can do it?"

Andy raised her head and searched his face. There was a stretch of silence before she said, "I guess we'll find out."

Sam grimaced. That wasn't very reassuring.

She gave him a small smile. "Now?"

He nodded. "The sooner, the better."

She nodded, taking a deep breath before she shakily got to her feet, using the wall to keep her upright until the room stopped spinning.

"Take a few deep breaths before moving again," Sam instructed.

Andy obeyed, then slowly made her way towards the crates, the fog gradually lifting from her head.

"You okay?" he asked when she'd been standing in front of the crates for a minute without really moving.

"Uh huh," she said, reaching down and grabbing a crate. She dragged it towards the window, which took some work opening. When it finally did show signs of budging, it creaked open, slicing through the silence and making her wince as her eyes shot upward. They both held their breath as they listened for signs of movement. Nothing.

Sam nodded to her, so she pushed it open a little more before glancing at him again.

"Good luck," he said.

She hesitated. "Thank you."

He frowned, positive she wasn't thanking him for wishing her luck. She wasn't coming back. His only shot at getting out of here was about to vanish.

"In case… you know," Andy said. "Pretty low odds, right?"

Sam stared at her, wordless as she turned back towards the window and pulled herself out into the humid night's air.

It took a split second for it to register with Andy that they weren't in the city. Based on the darkness and shroud of trees, they were relatively isolated. _Low odds sounds really optimistic right about now_, she thought.

Sam heard a soft curse before the sound of crunching, then silence. He closed his eyes and took a calming breath. If she didn't get help, he was alone. If their captors came down before help arrived, he was done. Everything was banking on Andy and after the last look she gave him, he was feeling even more uncertain. The thought terrified him.

**Thanks again for reading! I don't want to give away too much this time by telling you what's "up next", but if you like the story so far, I think you'll enjoy the next chapter. Any thoughts as to what's going to happen? Still want more? (I hope so because this story is far from done)**


	6. Bearings

**Welcome back! Thanks for your awesome reviews, follows, and favourites. I know it probably always sounds the same, but it's a sincere thank you ****_every_**** single time. I've probably already mentioned that I was hesitant to publish my stories in the first place – I fell out of writing for awhile and am feeling a little rusty, which made me even more hesitant to do this – but a month into writing/posting RB FanFiction and I haven't regretted my decision once, and it's because of your support. You guys really inspire me to continue, and try to do better, improve, etc. **

**Some of you regularly write reviews, which is absolutely fantastic. I always look forward to reading them, seeing what you think and how you're feeling about each chapter, and what you think will happen next. It's a lot of fun to read, and honestly, "hearing" your thoughts is motivating/encouraging, etc. To those of you who are writing reviews for this story for the first time, a huge thank you to you guys as well. I truly appreciate all of the feedback and support, so I hope you'll continue to let me know what you think! And to those of you who follow the story but keep quiet, thank you to you guys as well. I'd love to hear your thoughts, but I appreciate your support and having you come along with me on this journey all the same! So, a huge THANK YOU to all of you.**

**Okay, sorry, if that's long and rambling, but I had to get that out there because all of you guys are AWESOME (and that applies to those reading my other stories as well). Now, I know you're here for the next chapter, not to hear me rambling (even if it is in thanks), so I'll provide the recap and let you get to it!**

**Recap: After realizing that something is off with both Andy and the asylum she is in, Sam manages to obtain the proper documentation and gets approval from a psychologist, but on his way out of the building, Andy is grabbed and both are injected with an anesthetic. They wake up in the basement of the asylum, but are knocked out again. Realizing something is wrong, 15 Division sets out to find Sam and Andy, but soon find themselves running out of leads. When Sam and Andy regain consciousness for a second time, Sam realizes he's cuffed and Andy's going through withdrawals. After helping make the withdrawals more manageable, Sam gives Andy specific instructions, then watches as she climbs out the window in an attempt to find help. **

Andy cursed. Not only was it dark, but it was immediately apparent that they were no longer at the asylum or even in the city. The starry sky, dirt path, and trees stretching as far as the moonlight would let her see was proof that they were likely at least an hour outside of the city. So the question was: where the hell were they, and who brought them here? The _why_ could come later, _if_ there was a later.

She tried to think back to the first time she'd woken up. They'd been in the basement of the asylum – she'd faintly recognized it – but right now she didn't recognize a single thing. Not the basement she'd just come out of, or the wooden cabin behind her. Swallowing hard, she looked around, eyes narrowed as she attempted to get her bearings.

She contemplated turning back and telling Sam, but what good would that do? Regardless of where they were, her task was still the same: to get help. Besides, she wasn't about to admit that the prospect of going out into the forest in the middle of the night scared her. She'd spent enough time camping with her father in her early childhood that it should be comforting, but with minimal light and camping a distant memory, the thought that anybody could be lurking in the shadows had her on edge.

Taking a deep breath, she cautiously crept away from the cabin, her eyes flicking left and right for any sign of movement, but the only sounds she could hear were coming from inside. Keeping to the shadows, she headed down the dirt path, slowly at first so that she could make each footfall as silent as possible.

A snarl, followed by a loud bark had her jumping, a small cry escaping her before she could clamp a hand over her mouth. She whirled around, spotting a large enclosed area where a dog now stood, pressed up against the fence, baring its teeth. Andy stared at it wide-eyed for a moment, cursing, before glancing back at the cabin. "Shhh," she said, but the dog only barked louder. Knowing it was only a matter of time before someone came to the window to check on things, she bolted.

"Shut up," she heard someone yell, though she was now far enough away that even with the echo, it sounded faint. She maintained her pace until she reached the main road where she stopped altogether, her eyes darting left and right. Everything looked the same. There was no sign of help, just trees, a long, winding road, and a dark sky.

She scanned the sky for constellations, thankful that is wasn't particularly cloudy out. "Road goes south, cabin's north," she whispered a few times to make sure she'd remember before taking off down the road to the right.

Ten minutes in, she could already feel her legs and lungs starting to burn, but she forced herself to keep going, cursing the asylum for taking away her ability to run. Throughout high school and university she'd done a lot of running and played a lot of sports. She'd been in great shape, but years of being locked up had really taken its toll. Admittedly, without a camera in her room, she'd managed to exercise a little bit in the corner that wasn't visible through the little window in the door, and that was probably the only thing keeping her from collapsing at the moment. Still, the difference was noticeable.

Fifteen minutes in, she was really struggling to keep her pace, every muscle in her body aching as she tried to propel herself forward. Her breathing was ragged.

At twenty minutes, she was drenched in sweat, both her mind and body now screaming at her. Still, she pushed herself, the sight of another dirt path giving her an extra burst of energy. However, just as she reached it, headlights appeared in the distance. She hesitated a fraction of a second, then threw herself in the ditch. As much as she needed help, she had no idea who was behind the wheel, and if it was one of her captors, they were both done. She just couldn't risk it, so she kept her head down until the car had passed, then cautiously rose, crying out in pain as her right ankle gave out beneath her. Her knees hit the pavement hard. Tears sprung to her eyes, but she forced them back. She couldn't give up now, not when she was this close. Shifting so she could see her ankle, she grimaced. It was already swelling up. "Get up," she whispered to herself, pushing herself back up to her feet. After gingerly testing her ankle and determining she wouldn't be able to run anymore, she took the dirt path at a walk, wincing every time she put pressure on her right foot.

It took her at least ten minutes to reach the cabin at the end, relieved to find the lights out and no sign of a car or inhabitants. As she stepped up onto the front porch, she scanned the area for a means of getting in, eventually settling on trying one of the side windows. Unlocked. A smile flickered across her face as she pushed it open and clambered inside, her foot catching on the carpet and sending her tumbling to the ground again.

Andy groaned, and lay there for a moment as she tried to catch her breath before hunting for a phone. She hobbled from room to room, panic consuming her when after the third room she couldn't find one. That the cabin might not have a phone hadn't even occurred to her.

Her shoulders slumped in defeat. She was fairly certain she wouldn't be able to make it to another cabin, not if they were the same distance apart. If she couldn't make it though, they'd kill Sam, and probably find her too. Groaning again, she stumbled into the kitchen, her eyes scanning every surface, determined to overlook nothing. When her eyes landed on a white portable phone, relief flooded through her. She flung herself towards it and snatched it up.

Upon hearing the dial tone, she couldn't help but laugh. She punched in 9-1-1, then set the phone down and splashed some water on her face, letting it cool her heated body. When she still didn't hear a voice on the other end of the line, she took a few gulps of water, then reached out, allowing her fingers to curl around the phone before she put it to her ear and slumped to the floor.

* * *

"Barber," Jerry said as he picked up his phone.

"There's a woman on the phone who wants to talk to you. She named you specifically. She said it's important, and she sounded pretty scared."

Jerry frowned. "Patch her through." He pulled his phone away for a moment to accept the call. "Barber," he said again.

"Jerry Barber?"

"Yes," Jerry said slowly. It wasn't a voice he recognized, and it sounded hesitant. "Who is this?"

"I need your help."

Jerry shrugged at Oliver's questioning look. He had no idea who it was. "What can I help you with?"

"I need you to come to…" She paused, pushing herself to her feet again as she searched the kitchen for some kind of indication as to where they were.

"Come where? Who is this?" Jerry said. "Is this a prank?"

"Don't hang up," the woman cried. "It's a… it's a cabin. They have an officer, and they're going to kill him."

Jerry froze. "What did you just say?"

"If you don't hurry, they're going to kill him."

"Who? What's his name?" he asked.

"Officer Swarek. Uh, Sam… Sam Swarek."

Jerry cursed, signaling for Oliver to come closer. "And who are you?"

"Andy… McNally."

Jerry's eyes widened. Was this for real? "So he was right…"

Andy frowned.

Snapping out of it, Jerry said, "Okay, where are you? Are you with him?"

"No," Andy said, grabbing a phone bill off the fridge. "It's uh…" She searched the bill for the address, then recited it. "No wait, umm, it's the cabin just north of that. One over from this one. He's in the basement and he's cuffed."

Jerry sucked in a large breath before cursing. "Okay, just stay where you are. I'll have a unit swing by to pick you up and I'll go get Swarek. Just don't move, okay?"

A flash of light coming through a window somewhere near the back of the cabin had her heart rate picking up again. Someone was coming. "I… I can't."

"Andy, don't go anywhere. We're going to help you…"

"Someone's here," she breathed.

"McNally, just find somewhere safe to hide, but don't go far. We're sending units out now. You're going to be…" he fell silent as the call disconnected.

* * *

Sam's heart rate skyrocketed at the barking of a dog, wondering if this was the end, if Andy had been caught already. He silently cursed. He should never have sent her out there. Even if it was the only option, or their best chance at getting away, he shouldn't have asked her to do it. She was in absolutely no condition for it, not to mention the risk involved.

He held his breath as a woman's voice rang out, screaming at the dog to keep quiet. Then nothing. No hurried movements sounded from above, and the dog was no longer barking. Had Andy gotten away?

Each minute that passed had him squirming a little more. He struggled to slide his hands through the cuffs, but they were already digging into his wrists and he knew freeing himself of them was pretty hopeless.

It couldn't have been more than fifteen minutes later when he heard a door slam shut and a car start up. Had they just left him alone? He struggled against the handcuffs again, only stopping when a floor somewhere above him creaked. No, someone was still up there. He tilted his head back against the cold wall and took a few calming breaths, a smirk forming on his face as his eyes landed on his watch.

He immediately worked at removing it from his wrist. There was a small metal piece that he might be able to use to work away at the cuffs. As he moved to grab the piece, however, it slipped through his fingers and fell to the floor. He attempted to move to grab it with his mouth, but couldn't reach it. He cursed, staring at what could be his only chance at getting out alive. After all, at this point Andy had been gone for nearly half an hour, and he figured if she was going for help, they should have been here by now.

Sam closed his eyes, hopelessness setting in once more. Even when he'd been undercover and things had started to go sideways, he'd felt more sure of himself and more confident that he'd survive. Right now though, all he could do was think about what was going to happen when someone finally came down the stairs and realized Andy was gone, _and_ had she actually made it somewhere safe?

He glanced at his watch again. Forty-five minutes – that's how long it had been since she'd climbed through the window. That's how long he'd had to think about his own demise. The sound of a car outside had his head snapping up towards the window, but it was too high up for him to see anything other than the light from the car peaking through. "Just put me out of my misery," he breathed. He was tired of waiting.

Loud footsteps sounded from above, followed by: something shattering, scraping, and a gunshot. Sam jumped, his entire body tensing. Who the hell was in the house? He didn't have long to wait. Within a minute or so, someone came barreling down the stairs. His eyes darted towards the door, his heart rate skyrocketing once more. As the door was flung open, he held his breath, eyes widening as he came face to face with the barrel of a gun.

**Thanks again for reading! Your reactions have been spot-on so far, so if you think this story is disturbing now, just wait – there's a lot more to come, and it's only going to get even more twisted.**

**Up next, we find out if Andy's going to be caught again, or if she's going to make a "run" for it. After all, the last thing she wants is to be thrown back in an asylum, especially after her experience, and that kind of motivation has the power to make people do crazy things. So, what will she do? And where does all of this leave Sam? He has a gun to his head and he's cuffed. Things aren't looking too good for him right now, ****_but_**** a lot can happen. Any thoughts as to what the future holds? And what do you think so far? I hope you'll join me for the next chapter to find out what goes down. **


	7. The Big Bang

**WARNING:**

**This story is changing from a T rating to a M rating. This rating _may_ apply to multiple aspects of the story, but based on where we're currently at, it's due to violence. Being a disturbing/creepy story, there will be some deaths, but nothing overly graphic (I'll give you a heads-up though). It is a crime and romance story though, so you'll get a lot of highs and lows. I won't be too explicit/graphic with anything, but might not completely gloss things over either. If anyone has any concerns, PLEASE let me know and I can always figure something out to keep everyone happy, while maintaining the overall direction/flow of the story. Quite honestly though, if you've made it this far and can handle the creepiness, I think you're golden for the rest of the story... Given the nature of Tommy's death, I probably should have given the story a M rating to begin with, so my bad, sorry! Anyway, I just thought I'd let you know, but as I said, I don't want to deter anyone, so if you're concerned or want more info, please let me know! Otherwise, we're in for an interesting ride, full of suspense and of course romance – it is a McSwarek story after all!**

* * *

**Welcome back! Sorry for delay in getting this chapter up…**

**As always, you guys are AWESOME. Thank you so much for all of your reviews/follows/favourites. Knowing where your head is at for this story is critical for me. If you're not still guessing right up until close to the end, then I'll consider this story a failure. That said, I hope you'll continue to let me know what you think!**

**Recap: ****After realizing that something is off with both Andy and the asylum she is in, Sam manages to obtain the proper documentation and gets approval from a psychologist, but on his way out of the building, Andy is grabbed and both are injected with an anesthetic. They wake up in the basement of the asylum, but are knocked out again. Realizing something is wrong, 15 Division sets out to find Sam and Andy, but soon find themselves running out of leads. When Sam and Andy regain consciousness for a second time, Sam realizes he's cuffed and Andy's going through withdrawals. After helping make the withdrawals more manageable, Sam gives Andy specific instructions, then watches as she climbs out the window in an attempt to find help. Andy battles against exhaustion, meds, and an injured right ankle in an effort to reach a nearby cabin to call for help. While on the phone, she spots headlights and is forced to disconnect the call. Meanwhile, Sam gets worried when after 45 minutes help still hasn't arrived. He hears a gunshot upstairs and soon after, watches as the door is flung open and he finds himself face to face with the barrel of a gun.**

* * *

_Jerry sucked in a large breath before cursing. "Okay, just stay where you are. I'll have a unit swing by to pick you up and I'll go get Swarek. Just don't move, okay?"_

_A flash of light coming through a window somewhere near the back of the cabin had her heart rate picking up again. Someone was coming. "I… I can't."_

_"Andy, don't go anywhere. We're going to help you…"_

_"Someone's here," she breathed._

_"McNally, just find somewhere safe to hide, but don't go far. We're sending units out now. You're going to be…" he fell silent as the call disconnected._

* * *

Andy cursed, her eyes darting towards the entrance to the living room. There was no way she'd make it back to the window in time. Snatching up the bill, she rushed to put it back up on the fridge, her eyes flicking toward the front of the cabin as she heard a key slide into the lock. Swallowing hard, she looked towards the kitchen door. Even that was out of reach. As the front door opened, Andy put the phone back where she found it and slid down to the floor, pressing her back up against the kitchen island as she pulled her knees to her chest and waited.

Seconds later the front door creaked open and heavy footsteps cut through the silence. "Wait," hissed a male voice.

Andy closed her eyes, focusing on steadying her breathing.

"Did you leave the window open?"

A second male, this one younger sounding, responded. "No."

"Grab the guns from the truck."

"You think someone's here?" the younger man asked, his voice shaking.

"_Was_ or _is_," the first man replied, his voice rough. "Now get the guns."

The creaking of the floorboards told Andy that the man was making his way through the cabin, no doubt searching for evidence of an intruder. Her mind raced. Had she carried any mud in with her? Her eyes opened and flicked to her feet, withholding a sigh of relief. No. It was unlikely. As the sound of boots scuffling on the wood floor got closer, she held her breath, each creak in the floor, rustle of clothing, and heavy breath causing her heart rate to increase.

Her eyes scanned the nearby surfaces that were bathed in moonlight, stopping when a glint of metal caught her attention. As she shifted, she bit down on her lower lip to stop herself from crying out in pain, bracing herself as she slowly inched toward the opposite counter. The floor groaned beneath her. She froze, her eyes wide and her breath hitching as she listened for any sign that the men had heard.

Silence.

"Got the guns," the younger man called out from the front door.

Andy jumped at the sudden noise, her entire body tensing at the thought of two fully-armed men finding her trespassing.

"Get the generator working," yelled the older man, his footsteps retreating a little ways before stopping.

Clenching her teeth together, she lunged forward, her heart pounding heavily in her chest. The footsteps were getting louder again. Had she been seen? Heard? She risked a quick look. Not yet. Andy reached up toward the block containing knives. Her fingers just barely touched the end of one of the larger knives, but she couldn't quite grab it. Silently cursing, she pushed herself up a little more, knowing that any higher and she'd almost guarantee being seen. Glancing over her shoulder, she could see the flicker of a flashlight as it moved from left to right, gradually inching further down the hallway and into the kitchen. "Not today," she breathed, rising up and curling her fingers around the knife's handle. She yanked it out and ducked down again, moving her body as close to the kitchen island as possible. A split second later, the man re-entered the room.

Andy's grip on the knife tightened, her entire body tense but ready. She could do this. She had to. Taking a deep breath, she set her gaze on the floor a couple of metres to her right and waited, her heart rate skyrocketing the second a boot appeared from behind the island's cupboards. Seconds later the barrel of a gun swung forward and Andy found herself staring wide-eyed at a shotgun. Her heart stopped. All he needed to do was turn a little and raise it and she was a goner. The flashlight flicked left to right and back again. He was now so close that Andy could smell the smoke on his clothing and the overpowering smell of whiskey in his breath. These guys, they weren't going to wait for an explanation. Based on the almost nauseating stench, the old man was too far gone for that. Had she not been so focused on whether she'd make it out alive, she probably would have questioned how they'd even driven and made it to the cabin without going in the ditch. But, that was the last thing on her mind at the moment. There was a shotgun with a bullet meant for her, and she was certain that if the guy saw her, he'd shoot. He wouldn't think, he'd just act, which meant that if she didn't act first, she was as good as dead. She held her breath as the flashlight swung back in her direction, the distance between the light and her body rapidly decreasing. This was it.

* * *

Jerry cursed, slamming his fist into the steering wheel. "How the hell does this even happen?"

Oliver cast a sideways glance at his friend, but said nothing. Letting Jerry drive right now was probably a mistake.

"We've got a detective – not just anyone from 15, but _our_ best friend – being held captive in a basement." Jerry paused, his right arm waving madly in the air as he continued. "And we've got a woman who, for years, was presumed to be insane, but now she's finally stepping forward—?"

"Do we know for sure that she isn't?" Oliver asked slowly. He'd met Andy a few times, but that had been many years ago, and when it came down to it, he hardly knew her. That said, it was quite possible that her father's death had pushed her over the edge.

Jerry's eyes widened. "She called me, Ollie." He paused. "_She_ called me," he repeated, exasperated.

Oliver remained silent for a moment. "But she asked for you, which means Sam must have specifically told her to call you... and that means that Sam's still alive." Even as he spoke, he had a feeling that his friend wasn't listening. He was right.

"How the hell do you live in an asylum for years and have nobody notice that you're perfectly okay? That nothing's wrong with you? How does that happen? How the fuc—"

"She's smart," Oliver interrupted. "Always has been... Too smart for her own good, really." At least that had been his initial impression of her.

Jerry ground his teeth together. "Smart enough to trick every nurse and psychologist in that building? Smart enough to get every cop and detective that we sent her way to leave, firmly believing she was completely out of her mind? She's either a genius or we're a bunch of morons with badges."

"Maybe they did know… You even said that Sam told you something was off with them, so maybe they knew, and maybe they were intentionally trying to keep her there."

Letting out a frustrated sigh, Jerry looked over at his friend. "And you think that's why they took Swarek too? Because he figured it out?"

Oliver shrugged. "Could be."

"Why her though? We want her because she's a witness. _Nobody_ else knows that though. It's been kept quiet, so unless she said something..."

"I don't know, Jerry," Oliver replied. "But we're going to find them, and when we do, I'm sure we'll get some answers."

Jerry's phone rang. "Barber," he said, ignoring the fact that he was breaking a law as he connected the call. As he listened to the voice on the other end, he ran his hand over his face. "Get a warrant... For both places." Seconds later, he hung up, slamming his fist against the steering wheel again. Glancing at Oliver he said, "There were two drunk guys at the cabin she called from. They were passed out and don't remember seeing anyone. The other cabin was quiet." He rubbed his face before stepping on the gas pedal a little harder. "We're still twenty minutes out. We don't know if they're—"

"They're alive," Oliver said. "Sam's smart. He'll figure something out."

* * *

The light stopped mid-swing as a loud noise from outside got the older man's attention. He cursed loudly. Within a matter of seconds, the boot had disappeared from view and Andy could hear the scuffling getting quieter as the man ran towards the front door, slamming it shut behind him.

She let out the breath she'd been holding, a small laugh escaping her as relief filled her. Pushing herself to her feet, Andy bit back a small cry as pain shot through her ankle. Her vision became blurred with unshed tears, as she fought against the excruciating pain and hobbled towards the back door, pausing for a brief moment to listen. Everything still seemed to be directed towards the front of the house. Taking a calming breath, she opened the door, grimacing when it creaked loudly. She could only hope that the men were being loud enough that they wouldn't hear it. Stepping back out into the humid night's air, she squinted as she looked towards the shadows, desperately trying to see something. Anything. Even with the moonlight, she couldn't see very far, not with the way the trees towered over the cabin. She sighed. There really wasn't much of a choice. With the guys near the front of the cabin, the only way she could safely go at the moment was towards the water. Cursing, she stumbled down the steps and limped as quickly as possible towards the lake. Once at the water's edge, she glanced backwards, then slowly waded in, gasping as the cold went straight to her bones.

Letting out a long shaky breath, she grabbed the pool noodle that was caught just beneath the dock, gripping it firmly as she forced herself to move a little deeper. Despite how warm it was outside, the water was a little chilly, and being as exhausted as she was, didn't help matters. She knew it would be an uphill battle, but this was the safest route... maybe even the only route.

With that in mind, she turned to face north, scanning the horizon until she spotted a faint glow emerging from somewhere behind the line of trees. "It has to be," she whispered. There weren't any roads in between the cabins, so it had to be the place she'd come from. With a destination in sight, she started to swim towards it, trying to ease up on her right ankle as much as possible, while attempting to keep her movements relatively quiet. She could still hear the guys yelling and running through the forest, gunshots being fired every once in awhile. What they were firing at though, she had no clue, but as long as it wasn't at her, then that was good enough for the time being.

* * *

When she was halfway to her destination, Andy felt like she was going to pass out. Her breathing was laboured, her teeth were chattering, and all she wanted to do was lie down. Her entire body ached. Her focus was nearly shot. And with each passing minute, she could feel the drugs running through her body a little more. Worse still, her ankle was throbbing – none of the drugs she'd taken were painkillers – and even though she'd really eased up on using her right foot, even the smallest of movements had tears springing to her eyes. Had it not been for the pool noodle, she was fairly certain she would have drowned by now. She tried to push the thought aside. _You can do this_, Andy thought, repeating it over and over again in her head as she rolled onto her back and tried to ease up on her pace a little. Digging deep, she continued on until she reached land, weakly dragging herself onto the grass where she lay for several minutes in an attempt to catch her breath.

* * *

Sam stared wide-eyed at the barrel of the gun. "Put it down," he said as calmly as he could, despite the fear racing through him. Whatever he'd been thinking moments ago, he took back. He didn't want to die. He wasn't ready to die. This wasn't how he was going to go. Eyes shifting from the gun to the woman holding it, he added, "You don't want to do this. Just put it down."

"Where is she?"

His eyes flicked up to her face, studying it in the dim moonlight. She looked scared. Angry. Distressed. "Gone," he finally said. "She's gone, and you won't find her."

"Where the hell is she?" the woman screamed, pointing the gun at his head.

Sam swallowed hard, closing his eyes when he felt the metal against his forehead. When he finally opened them again, he met her eyes. "Safe." He could only hope that was true.

"You should have left her alone," the woman said, her eyes wild. "You should never have tried to help her."

"Why?" Sam demanded. "So you could force more drugs down her throat? So you could hold her captive?"

The woman laughed dryly. "That's what you think? That's what you _really_ believe?" She paused. "Is that what she told you?"

He frowned. What on earth was she talking about?

"You have no idea what you're up against," the woman continued, her eyes flicking around the basement before settling back on him. She'd stepped away, though her gun remained trained on Sam.

"No? Then tell me," Sam said cautiously. "What am I up against?"

The woman laughed again. "It's only a matter of time—"

"Put the gun down."

Sam's eyes widened, his mouth falling open slightly upon hearing the second voice. He'd been so focused on the gun pointed at him that he hadn't heard anyone else come down. His brows furrowed as he took in the drenched figure behind the other woman, a gun held high in her hand too. "Andy?" he said in disbelief. He was positive she was long gone, but here she was holding a gun… his gun? Unless the other woman had it? His eyes flicked from one gun to the other. They looked identical. He mentally shook himself and looked back up at Andy. Where the hell had she been and why was she soaked? And, where had the gun come from?

Andy's eyes flicked to Sam before returning to the woman's back. She removed the safety. "Put it down," she said with a little more force, despite still trying to catch her breath. She blinked hard, one hand absentmindedly wiping away the water that was trickling down her face.

Eyes flicking back to the other woman, Sam silently cursed. This wasn't going to end well. "McNally, go." He couldn't risk the woman turning around and shooting her, or vice versa, and based on where Andy was currently standing, he suspected she could probably reach the doorway before the woman turned and fired.

Too late. The woman started turning and Andy showed no signs of moving. His heart jumped to his throat. This was bad. Very bad.

Guns pointed at one another, the women locked eyes.

"Leave her alone," Sam said sharply, trying to draw the woman's attention back to him.

"It's her fault," the woman cried, gun shaking in Andy's direction. "_Everything_ is her fault… None of this would be happening without her… She... she needs to die."

Sam's eyes flicked back to Andy. It was obvious she was barely holding it together, but even through her exhaustion, he could see her confusion. Sure she could act, but she genuinely seemed confused.

Andy tightened her grip on the gun, her finger hovering over the trigger. "You know nothing," she said, eyes darkening and eyebrows furrowing.

His heart rate picked up again. Neither woman was paying attention to him anymore. The tension in the room was palpable. Still, he had no idea what was going on. All he knew was that if he didn't do something soon, then…

_Bang._

**Thanks again for reading!**

**You guys seem to love cliffhangers (insert a wink… maybe?), so I thought I'd leave you with another one. This time I'll do my best not to leave you hanging for nearly as long (sorry!). Anyway, I hope you'll let me know what you think of this chapter and story so far, who you think was shot, etc.?**

**Up next, we find out whose gun was fired, who was shot, and a lot of other things that I can't really mention without giving away too much... IF the story seems a little dreary right now, it won't always be like that - it has to have a certain level of creepiness to it, but once McSwarek starts to come together, the mood will shift a little. So, that said, I hope to see you around for the next chapter!**

**Twitter - RB_ADI2DE**


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